


Scopaesthesia

by Panta



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Blackmail, Crying, Forced Orgasm, Hickeys, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Neck Kissing, Nipple Play, No Lube, Nude Photos, Oral Sex, Painful Sex, Paranoia, Psychological Trauma, Rough Sex, Sad Oma Kokichi, Sexual Assault, Stalking, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-08-26 15:21:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16684126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Panta/pseuds/Panta
Summary: (Noun); the feeling of being watched.Kokichi receives no verbal response, just wet lips locking onto his neck. He hums softly, tilting his head to the side to give Kaito more access as a shudder shoots down his spine.Having received consent, Kaito presses harder on a much more sensitive spot, and Kokichi waits for the scratch of facial hair that never fails to make him weak.It doesn’t come, and Kokichi’s half-lidded eyes fly open.The busted light, the open window, the scopaesthesia, and now…All too late, everything clicks into place.-Now with an added Bad End!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for sexual assault.

Kokichi feels like he’s being watched.

He’s a paranoid person; he knows that. But his normal levels of paranoia don’t hinder his ability to hide fear or keep him awake until the dead hours of the night, when even the sound of Kaito’s breathing can’t calm him down. His insomnia hasn’t been quite this bad since the Killing Game.

The hairs on his neck stand on end at the thought of yet another obsessive fan watching him through their bedroom window, camera out, hoping for something sad or cute or  _ lewd _ that they can post online. Just the thought of being seen in such a vulnerable state, of the public knowing what Kaito can do to him with a single word or kiss or  _ touch… _

Pure disgust sends a shudder down his spine. He stares at Kaito’s back, willing the former astronaut to just  _ know _ how he feels and what he needs, to turn around and pull him into his arms without asking questions, but that can’t happen. He’d say Kokichi is being irrational, as paranoid as ever, telling the boy to just go to sleep regardless of how  _ different _ he claims this feeling is.

Kaito snores on, blissfully unaware of the frustrated tears building in Kokichi’s eyes. He just wants to get some sleep, damn it!

How is it that, laying in bed right beside his beloved, he feels so cripplingly lonely? One of the only people to ever care about him has his back turned to him, the space between them like miles of ice-cold sheets, and the bitter isolation brings back unbearable amounts of pain. Kokichi can’t take the overwhelming silence any longer.

His bare feet hit the hardwood floor without a sound, the shuffling of blankets being the only thing to accompany his departure. Kaito’s always been a heavy sleeper, so sneaking around really isn’t necessary, but the former supreme leader was written to be cautious and wary of all possible outcomes. Old habits die hard, he supposes.

_ Implanted ones die harder. _

Clad in only boxers and one of Kaito’s old t-shirts, Kokichi slips out into their apartment’s small kitchen, hissing through his teeth at how cold the tile is against his bare skin. 

He doesn’t bother flipping any light switches; the two had long since decided to install nightlights in every room. The petite man notices somewhat sourly that one of the living room lights had burnt out, plunging that corner of the apartment into shadows.

The feeling of eyes drilling into his skull has grown, and Kokichi isn’t sure if it’s that or the draft from an open window that causes him to shudder.

_ Open…? _ The former leader sighs softly and shakes his head tiredly.  _ Kai-chan, you really are a moron sometimes, forgetting to close the window. _ He’ll have to tease Kaito about that in the morning. He’s too tired to remind himself that Kaito isn’t  _ actually _ an idiot, that he wouldn’t do something so careless, not when he is fully aware of the insanity plaguing their society, but he  _ knows _ that something is wrong.

Maybe some tea will help calm him down.

Kokichi grabs a mug from one of the thankfully low-hanging cabinets, then makes his way to the kitchen’s central island. A phone call from one Shuichi Saihara had distracted him from cleaning up after dinner, so the island was still cluttered with various dishes and foodstuffs, including several different boxes of tea.

He selects a caffeine-free lavender-chamomile blend, a mixture that should be perfect for relaxing his nerves.  _ ‘Should’ being the operative word there; who knows if this will actually wor- _

Arms wrap around him from behind. He jumps slightly, startled, and pouts down at the teabag in his palm. “Kai-chan is so mean, scaring me like that.”

Kokichi receives no verbal response, just wet lips locking onto his neck. He hums softly, tilting his head to the side to give Kaito more access as a shudder shoots down his spine.

Having received consent, Kaito presses harder on a much more sensitive spot, and Kokichi waits for the scratch of facial hair that never fails to make him weak.

It doesn’t come, and Kokichi’s half-lidded eyes fly open.

_ The busted light, the open window, the scopaesthesia, and now… _

All too late, everything clicks into place.

“You’re not Kai-chan,” he breathes out in horror, struggling futilely against the grip on his waist. His body feels heavy, his muscles fatigued from days without sleep.

“Sure I am,” an unfamiliar voice says, pressing a hand over Kokichi’s mouth before the former leader can say another word. The other hand plays with the waistband of the smaller man’s boxers, and his smirk is audible when he next speaks. “But that’s a lie, isn’t it?”

Kokichi’s protests are muffled against a leather glove, cold metal pressing on the side of his head. The man behind him tsks softly. “Now now, don’t you worry. You’re about to have plenty opportunity to use that pretty mouth of yours.” The gun barrel clicks. “You’ll be nice and quiet now, won’t you? I have no qualms with ending your pathetic excuse of a life, as well as your  _ boyfriend’s.” _ The words echo in his mind along with the knowledge that  _ he isn’t lying. _ Kokichi was written to detect lies, and to him it’s clear as day that this man won’t hesitate to make good on his threats.

The former leader goes still, nodding slowly.

“Good boy,” the man praises, Kokichi’s cheeks flushing indignantly.

A hand slides into his underwear, touching him directly, and he squeezes his eyes shut with a quiet whimper. This isn’t right, this isn’t right, only  _ Kaito _ can do this, only  _ Kaito _ can touch him there-

Teeth sink into the side of his neck, something like a sob tearing its way out of his throat.  _ No, not that, not that, don’t leave a mark! _ Kokichi wants to fight, he wants to kick or scream or at least do  _ something, _ but his body is frozen, paralyzed by what he knows is fear but refuses to acknowledge as such.

The man moves back, only slightly, and Kokichi can’t help the sigh of relief that escapes him. It doesn’t last.

“Strip.”

The command breaks the last of his calm, his body tense as he shakes his head. “...no.”

_ Click _ .

“You do know you’re the only thing standing between me and that boyfriend of yours, right? Disobey me and I’ll kill you, then I’ll go after him next.”

Just the thought of Kaito being hurt— _ or killed again, _ his mind helpfully supplies—diffuses the boy’s resolve. He grips the hem of his boyfriend’s old NASA t-shirt and tugs it over his head with a grimace. He tries not to think about Kaito. His hands shake as he pulls off his boxers, the fabric slipping through his fingers several times before it comes off.

“Turn around.” He obeys, eyes trained on the floor. “You’re even smaller than you looked in the simulation, how adorable.” Kokichi neither knows nor wants to know what exactly the man is referring to, but he prays it’s his stature. “Look at me.”

As soon as the former leader raises his head, he’s blinded by a flash of bright light. He blinks away the white spots in his vision and the tears that replace them, knowing full well what has just occurred. He’s the antagonist of Danganronpa 53, the lovable liar whose schemes and heroic sacrifices send him to the top of every character poll; there are easily thousands of people who would  _ die— _ who would  _ pay— _ to see him like this, exposed and vulnerable and  _ afraid. _ The way only his beloved should ever be allowed to see him.

A single tear slips past his lashes, and more soon follow like bats out of hell. The man circles him like a panting, perverted vulture, snapping photos from every angle as Kokichi desperately tries to stifle his sobs. He collapses to his knees on the cold kitchen tiles, unable to bear the thought of Kaito hearing him and seeing how pathetic he is, how willingly he has given himself over to another man, how much of a  _ whore _ he is.

A hand grabs a fistful of his hair, yanking his head backwards. It is then that Kokichi realizes the position he has just placed himself in.

“You got down on your knees without being told to; what a good little slut you are.” Kokichi flinches at the insult, but doesn’t deny it, limp in his tormentor’s grip.

The man indulges in one more photograph before reaching down to unbutton his pants. Kokichi allows his eyes to slide shut, dread churning in his gut but resigned to his fate. By sunrise the entire world will know Kokichi Ouma as a common whore.

Something warm, something  _ vile _ , brushes against his lips, and he begins to part them when suddenly it and the pull on his hair are gone.

_ Thud. _

Opening his bleary eyes shows Kokichi a figure sprawled out on the ground, another silhouette standing above him. He cowers from the anger rolling off this new man in waves, his body trembling. “No, no, please no more—“

“‘Kichi, it’s me.” The second man kneels in front of him, and in the dim light he can just barely make out warm magenta eyes and a reassuring smile.

“Kai-chan,” Kokichi whispers, fear melting into pure, unadulterated  _ relief. _ He lets himself be pulled into the former astronaut’s embrace, hot tears of an entirely different kind rolling over his cheekbones. “Kai-chan, Kai-chan, Kai-chan…”

Kaito rubs soothing circles on the boy’s back, holding him tight as he cries. “It’s okay; you’re okay. I’m here now.”

A thought occurs to him.

“P-Pictures,” the former leader stutters, lifting his head to look around frantically. “He-He took p-pictures of me.”

Kaito, seeing better than Kokichi’s tearful eyes will allow, picks an old, cracked smartphone up off of the floor. The light from the screen casts an angelic glow over Kaito’s face, the taller man biting his lip as he presumably searches for the photo gallery. “Idiot didn’t even have a password…” he mumbles, scowling, before his eyes widen in shock. “Oh, ‘Kichi…” His hold tightens on the small boy.

Kokichi knows what he just found, burying his face in his boyfriend’s chest to avoid seeing the resentment he knows will morph Kaito’s features. “Don’t look, don’t look, just delete them, o-or get rid of the ph-phone. Just  _ please _ don’t look at how  _ awful _ I am—“

“Hey, hey…” Kaito caresses his shoulder, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head. “This isn’t your fault, baby; you didn’t do anything wrong. He had a gun to your head.”

“I…” Kokichi’s voice breaks, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“Like I said, it isn’t your fault. Don’t apologize for things you had no control over.” Kokichi sniffles, so Kaito pulls his thin, trembling body closer. “I’m the one who should be sorry, ignoring what you said about being watched, then sleeping soundly while someone broke in and hurt you...I’m so sorry, ‘Kichi.”

He gives no response, only curling up against the comforting warmth of Kaito’s chest. Strong arms hold him tighter, but he doesn’t feel trapped; he feels  _ safe, _ protected from the dangers of a society bent on destroying everything that makes him human. He speaks quietly, “I feel dirty.”

“Once the police take him away, we’ll take a nice bath and get you all cleaned up, okay?”

“You’ll stay with me the whole time? You promise?”

“I promise.”

The rest of the night passes by in a blur of sirens, flashing lights, gentle hands, and soft blankets. Just as the sun begins to peak over the horizon, Kokichi falls into his first peaceful sleep in a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Want to see how things would’ve gone if Kaito didn’t wake up when he did? Head to the next chapter...


	2. Bonus Chapter: Bad End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kaito is far too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who wanted something worse ;)  
> There’s a bit of a time skip in the beginning so I could get right into the juicy bits but shhh....it’s fine.

Kokichi whines as he is forcefully bent over the countertop, squirming from the chill of the granite against his chest. The hand in his hair holds his head down, the other spreading open his ass cheeks; shivers wrack his thin form, exposed for the prying eyes of a stalker. He whimpers.

The wet tip of a hard cock presses against the former leader’s hole, and he screws his eyes shut at the memory of how  _ big _ it felt in his mouth. The man pulls his hips back and thrusts forward mercilessly.

Kokichi  _ screams, _ and, finally, Kaito wakes up.

The astronaut rushes out of their bedroom only to freeze in his tracks the moment he enters the kitchen. Kokichi, from his helpless position on the counter, is staring up at him with wide, terrified eyes. It doesn’t take a genius to see what’s going on, and just as Kaito begins to process it all, he hears an ominous  _ click. _

A man Kaito has never seen before has the barrel of a gun pressed against the back of his boyfriend’s head, a smirk adorning his features. “Take a single step closer and I’ll blow his brains out. He doesn’t get up until I’m done with him, the little whore.”

“ _ You... _ you’re  _ sick. _ ” Kaito growls, clenching his fists and desperately trying to figure out how he can fix this without Kokichi getting hurt. He can’t bear to watch.

“Lovesick, perhaps.” The smirk stretches into a grin, and, facing away, Kaito hears a bit of shuffling before his boyfriend lets out a gasp followed by a shaky moan. “I  _ encourage _ you to watch this.”

He has one hand wrapped around Kokichi’s steadily hardening cock, the other reaching forward to prod at his chest, and Kokichi’s sobs grow unbearably loud, echoing in Kaito’s ears as he watches tears hit the countertop.

Kaito hates seeing Kokichi in pain, but the worst part, he thinks, is when he moans and his face scrunches up in unwanted pleasure, when he screams and cries as he’s forced to orgasm because everyone hurts him but only  _ Kaito _ is allowed to make him feel good and this man is ruining pleasure for him.

The former leader is thrashing in the guy’s hold, nails scratching at the granite as he scrambles for purchase in the wake of an overwhelming pleasure-pain. His assaulter doesn’t pause in his efforts for even a second.

Kokichi’s entire body is trembling and jolting with every thrust because he’s still so sensitive and it feels so  _ good  _ but so  _ wrong  _ and he just wants everything to stop but more than that he wants  _ Kaito.  _ He wants Kaito to hold him, to kiss him, to touch him, to fuck him, to make him  _ his  _ because he doesn’t want to  _ belong  _ to anyone else but _Kaito_.

The stalker’s movements start to become erratic, and Kokichi whines out a chorus of “no”s and “stop”s because he  _ knows _ what’s coming next but he so badly wishes it weren’t true. Kaito watches in horror as this stranger, this horrible, perverted  _ stranger, _ holds Kokichi’s hips in an iron grip, keeping the boy’s bruised ass flush against his groin as he shoots cum deep inside of him. The utterly broken look in Kokichi’s eyes as he is claimed, taken,  _ stolen _ shatters Kaito’s heart.

Those beautiful violet eyes grow dull, tearless, and Kaito just  _ knows _ that now, years after the Killing Game has ended and their wounds have faded into scars, Kokichi is relapsing into his mask of false hatred and fake smiles. A grin is already twitching the corners of his lips.

And Kaito can do nothing but  _ watch. _


End file.
